I have been adopted

Maybe this is more of a story,
  but it sounds better if you can put a voice to the words.

I know,
  you don't know what I sound like,
   so pick one which seems to match the phrases.

Either way,
   I digress.

I have been adopted.

By a spoiled little dog.

She isn't stupid.
  Once, I arrived she realized I was the cook.
    Yet, I am not the one who feeds her.

She watches where I go,
  and if it is in the kitchen,
    she is right behind me.

I go outside,
  and she has to follow,
    seeing if I am lighting the grill.

Returning after a brief departure,
   she gives me a hopeful glance.

Now,
  being given her standard fare,
    she turns.

Runs down the hall,
  and whines at my door.

"Come on! 
    You aren't going to make me eat that?"